


Forsaken

by penninghistory



Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:02:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22299775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penninghistory/pseuds/penninghistory
Summary: The Diary of Queen Elizabeth of Gorlan fief, as transcribed by her daughter, Amya.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

I never knew my mother. Not anyway. Not until I read her diary, a gift from a foreign Queen, with a note of almost compassionate sympathy.  
They say they don't know how she died, that it would be a mystery lost to time — may be taken to the grave with my mother. The Queen, Cassandra, if I remember, wrote that perhaps I'd be able to find the secret.  
I wish I were able to tell my mother how I love and miss her.  
But it's too late now.

EXCERPTS FROM THE DIARY OF QUEEN ELIZABETH OF GORLAN FIEF. 

September 8th, 628 

I 

When I awoke this morning, the chill of the early morning had seeped into my very bones. And while the camp bed I shared with my husband was more comfortable than the stones in the mountains, I missed the warmth. A minor, irritation, if it had been one to be irritated about, to begin with. I sat up slowly, pulling the blankets over my bare shoulders and moved to stand, barefoot, in the soft grass.  
It had been months since this ware had started. A war I had never wanted, but one I had signed up for when marrying Morgarath. I should have sensed he was power-hungry. Maybe I was too. I wasn't too sure. Not when I heard the grunting of the Wargals and the chatter of the few of the human men we'd managed to keep. I shivered, one hand going to rest on the small of my back. I was sore, that much was to be said, and as I slowly dressed, a groaned at a low sharp kick. "Troublemaker," I muttered. "At least let me get dressed before you start to kick. That one hurt."  
There was another answering kick, and I rolled my eyes as I finally finished dressing, pulling my hair back, so it was out of my face as I stepped out into the chill. I nodded to a group of men who's names I only barely remembered, and one of them pointed in the direction of my husband. I gifted them a grateful smile and nod and carefully made my way past a line of Wargal tents to stand next to the tall man dressed in black armor. He was watching the enemy camp, and I followed his gaze standing next to him and intwining my small fingers with his. We stood there silently for a moment before I spoke.  
"We're nearing the twin river forks," I commented and felt his gaze shift to me. "Do you think he has the resolve to keep fighting much longer? After he's lost so much?"  
He seemed to laugh at my statement, and this time I met his gaze. "No," he replied after a moment, squeezing my hand and bringing it to his lips. He seemed happy, and as much I wanted to feel that way, there was a sick twisted feeling in my stomach as I forced myself to smile back. "He will die, Eliza. And then we will be at our rightful place with Caleb as our heir. And his son or daughter after him. Can't you feel it, love? The dawning of a new era."  
"The only thing I feel at the moment is your creation being a troublemaker already," I joked, then grew serious again as his free hand moved to my abdomen, his touch almost unusually gentle.  
"Maybe we'll have more creations soon."  
I scoffed. "You don't carry them for nine months," I scolded playfully before a gentle sound of a throat being cleared drew our attention away from the subject of more children.  
"My Lord, Lady," the man said, bowing slightly. "The enemy has prepared a flag of truce." He gestured, and I turned, feeling my breath leave my body in a sharp exhale. I watched as Morgarath turned and called for one of his own, and then for Warlock to be brought forward. He shot me a triumphant look, and I felt my pulse race, my breath quicken. Had we won? Or was this another ruse by the enemy? 

II

Duncan was in our hands. The newly crown King looked defeated, and almost pointedly ignore me as I tried to offer a sympathetic look. I told myself that he had earned this, forcing us to flee, Caleb barely out of his infancy years. I had almost surprisingly found out about the new pregnancy in those mountains, and that had only stirred Morgarath's hatred of the King, who now kneeled crownless and almost ashamed of himself. How I wished I could kneel with him, allow him one last comfort. I knew about the child he'd had with his now-dead Queen. I knew what the loss of a child felt like. I wished I could have told him that his child would be alright.  
But I couldn't. And that fact tore into my heart like a dagger. When he finally made eye contact, I tried to convey how sorry that it had to come to this, but his glance at my swollen abdomen told me everything I needed to know. I nodded a slight dip of my head and saw him relax at the movement. He would go to death willingly as long as his child was safe. And that nod was the best thing I could do for him in that situation.  
I was cold, freezing with fear, and I shivered visibly, startling when I felt a cloak be draped over my shoulders. "You'll catch your death out here, Queen Elizabeth," Morgarath said, as though he was tasting the feeling of the title. I shuddered again, pulling the cloak tighter around me. Duncan had tensed, and I felt uncomfortable flaunting a title I had not earned. One I had stolen, through my husband. I felt Morgarath's hand on my back, and I looked at him, nodding my thanks.  
"Thank you," I said, hesitating to assert his title. His new title. There was a sick feeling in my stomach again, but I swallowed it down. "I should go prepare to leave," I added, moving past him and out of the gaze of Duncan. Inside our tent, our pavilion, I knelt, covering my face so my hands would swallow my cries of fear and pain, carried quietly into that goodnight.

III

"I will be excited to have Caleb in my arms again finally," I told Moddie, an older, gray-haired woman who I trusted with my life as she helped me pack what little clothes I had away. "I've missed him so, and with his sibling on the way-"  
"I'm happy this damned war is over, my lady," Moddie said. "You needed to be in bed resting a week ago."  
I chuckled at her concern. The woman was like a second mother to me, and she had taken care of me for as long as I could remember. "Moddie," I told her, my tone playfully stern. "My place is here with my husband. Besides, I think this one will come late."  
She scoffed. "Little Caleb was two weeks early," she reminded me. "You were sick for a month! Could barely stand, much less care for your son. And it took you four years to have another child!" I frowned this time. Caleb had been early, and I remembered that. And though I understood her concern, I hated when she fretted about me having children.  
"Four years was time for me to recover," I reminded her. "And it's not like we didn't try...I loved those children, suffered when I lost them. And now I'm finally going to have another. And Lord Morgarth seems pleased."  
"As Queen, one of your roles will be giving heirs. I don't know if two is enough-"  
"King Duncan was an only child," I taunted, snorting. "And I know that. And I know what my place will be. And I will succeed. I have too."  
The door to the pavilion was pulled aside and I turned to see a soldier of around twenty-five standing in the open space. "I'm sorry to interrupt, my Lady, but Lord Morgarth sent me to collect your items, as well as you. He's eager to leave."  
I smiled at him to put him more at ease. "You have excellent timing then, good sir. We've just finished packing."  
The man gave me a grateful smile as he moved to the single small trunk and lifted it, and then lead the way to the horses. Moddie bowed slightly and took her leave as I moved to stand next to my horse, and nodded my gratitude to the solider who helped me mount.  
"Alright," I told myself, only half listening as Morgarth talked about what would happen next, "We just have a few days' journey to get to the castle. Please do not be like your brother and come early." I felt a comforting squeeze on my shoulder and looked at Morgarth, who had listened to me talk to our new child. And, for the first time since the war began, I began to feel at ease, finally allowing myself the joy of knowing that it was all over.


	2. Chapter 2

10TH OF OCTOBER, 628

I

I'm told the execution was quick. Duncan fell beside the castle he had sworn to protect, dying, ironically, while my daughter was making her entry into the world. Her harrowing entry into the world. That day was the 25th of September, and I had been ordered bed rest for these remaining weeks. It had delayed our coronation, and while we were still notably the King and Queen, the thing that would have made it more set in stone was that Coronation. That ceremony, the crown. The ball that Morgarath had been almost too eager to host.   
My health, however, and the health of the daughter we named Amya was more critical as was Caleb, who had been sent for after we'd been settled and arrived mere days before his sister's birth. He was excited about the castle, and the sister he would show around once she was old enough. He was already a protective older brother, and I often watched as he told his sister everything he knew while she slept, gently kissed her forehead good night.   
More often than not, there were times I missed the simplicity of Gorlan. There had been fewer rules about formalities, and those rules were difficult to get used too. On days when I ignored my healer's request to stay resting in bed, I found myself sitting in Morgarath's office, an almost plain-looking room high in one of the towers and listening to him talk about what he assumed to be trivial matters-such as the finding and execution of the band of Rangers that had assisted Duncan in his 'rebellion' against Morgarath. Most of them had either gone into hiding or fled the country entirely. I couldn't blame them.   
Another matter was the finding of Duncan's daughter. I tried not to listen to the fact that if the young girl were found, she would have to be killed. Forced myself to bite my tongue and not ask the question of, "What if it was Amya and Caleb?" I knew the rules, knew that the girl would be used as a symbol of any rebellion made in the future. But that didn't make the tonic any less bitter to swallow. Nor the poison it came with. The poison was sweeter than the tonic, but I forced myself to resist the idea of sinking into the darkness of not knowing the truth.   
I was the Queen. I would rule next to Morgarth, through thick and thin. And I planned to be a good ruler next to him. So, while he talked about his principal business, I was forming plans of my own, in relative secret. The only other person who knew about my ideas was Morgarath. Plans to make secretly planned trips to each of the fifty fiefs, made by me to access each of their standings within the kingdoms. But, for now, all I was concerned with was caring for my daughter. 

II

The day of the Coronation was sunny and warm. The past days had been rainy and dreary, was summed up my anxious stomach, and ever-growing pit that seemed to ingulf it every time Morgarath mentioned the Ceremony. My dress had been picked, the crown I would wear during the ceremony and circuit of the tournament ground polished. I would wear a simple, iron crossed circuit for the beginning. My mother and Angelica had arrived shortly after Amya's birth, and Angelica circled me now as I stood, tall and majestic in my dark blue gown. It would be the one used in the ceremony and so had to be removed as soon as Angelica was done, but I enjoyed wearing it. The fabric was light and comfortable, and I found it easy to breathe in. My mother would watch Caleb and Amya during the niceties, but if Caleb wished to join us after we'd been crowned, he'd be allowed too. I'd even allowed him to pick a small crown, one to match his father's in case that were to happen.   
Angelica tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and I pressed my cheek into her hand. "Have you decided on your lady-in-waiting?" she asked me quietly, and I sighed.   
"There isn't anyone here I can trust," I whispered, glancing at the maids who stood awkwardly in the wings to help me out of my dress. My sister followed my gaze, and, seeming to sense my worry, nodded so small only I could see it.   
"The Queen wishes to speak to me alone," she said. "You may go and will be sent for when she is ready." The women, most of them younger than us, nodded and curtsied low to me before leaving, the last one closing the door tightly behind her. "Talk to me, Eliza. What do you mean, 'no one here you can trust'?"   
I sighed, moving around her, and to the window, it's drapes open to allow a slight cooling breeze into the room. "Think about it. My husband and I killed the rightful king of Araluen-"   
"After he had surrendered to Morgarath and therefore lost his title," Angelica said, and I nodded, not looking at her.   
"I know that, Ange," I said. "But we still stole a throne; something meant for a small child now gone north, lost to us to the Scotti."   
"The Scotti? How do you know?"   
"We've been getting reports of a group of Duncan's supporters going north for days now. We thought they were hiding until the young princess was old enough-or well enough-to travel. Healers being paid under the table to care for her in different fiefs. Redmont, Norgate, Seacliff. Everyone questioned said the same thing: a ginger-haired man dressed as a Ranger of the old school. And a Baron they recognized as Arald, if not by his reputation, he told them. No one would elaborate beyond that. They all said they had a group of several people, including women and a small child, they claimed to be the rightful heir."   
"What did they say?"   
"That they were lying. That it was Caleb as the true heir." I replied. "I was told they helped to care for the child simply because of her age and the fact they paid well to keep them silent...Until Morgarath sent Cutter and his group." I shuddered, thinking about what the man, an expert in torture, would have done to those who wouldn't talk. "Cutter was the one who sent the reports. Morgarath trusted them, and now we had confirmation yesterday that they were true. The Baron in Norgate helped them cross into Picta. As far as I'm aware, he'll be killed in secret. Poison, an arrow from a hidden location, a wargal while he's hunting. I'm not sure."   
Angelica sighed and crossed the room, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me, so my head rested on her shoulder. I was anxious and stressed, and the talk of treason, torture, and murder had made my stomach curdle. I wanted to throw up, but Mama had made me a potion for it and brought food earlier. So I stood in my sister's calming embrace and allowed her to rock me like she would when I was little. And then, at that moment the world seemed to slow, and my anxiety slowly faded away.


	3. Chapter 3

25th of July, 629 

I have to apologize for the lack of writing. My days these last few months have been filled to the brim, making me too weary of writing. I'm in Redmont now. The new Baron here, a man ironically named Tiller, welcomed Caleb and me with open arms. While Caleb, now a boy of five, was running around with the other children of the fief's nobles, I was busy elsewhere, planning the first step of my conversation with Lady Sandra.   
Lady Sandra...wife to a traitor. A branding she may never lose in this life, one I'd almost felt pressed into my skin. I had thought about it long and hard, sometimes sneaking away from the apartments in Castle Araluen to wander, Amya sleeping in my arms. I whispered the stories of old, how I once was jealous of Sandra's standings in the Royal Court, how I had once wished her to be my friend. And now, the tables had turned. And not in a way that I don't think either of us would have seen.   
One day, I stood, asked for a small lunch to be brought to the rooms Sandra had been kept in, and made my way there. I didn't know what I was doing. Was I trying to gain a friend or just an ally? A pawn that I could discard later. Was I becoming something I never wanted to come?   
I shook my head, willing myself to rid my brain of the thoughts before knocking lightly on the wooden door. There was a confused sounding, "Come in," and, straightening my back, I did so, nodding my head politely at the older woman, who had stood to meet me.   
Her face hardened, and I couldn't blame her for the way she looked at me, even as she dropped into a curtsy. "I hadn't expected the Queen herself to visit me," she said coldly. "I would have cleaned more if I had known."   
"You can stop the formalities," I told her, sharper than I had expected myself to. "You would have followed Arald to death if he had stayed rather than ran, and you know it. I would have done the same. I am not your enemy here, and they have surrounded you. But you don't know anything."   
"Don't I?" she asked. "I know that your husband killed the rightful king and is searching for his heir. I know that you plot and scheme-"   
"Plot and scheme?" I interrupted, more amused by what she thought was my plotting and scheming. "I don't think you remember, but our country was in the middle of a war for months. Duncan surrendered; he gave his life to protect his heir. Morgarath had no choice. And I don't have a say in what he does. But what I've done is try to heal old wounds, try to salvage what little remained of the smaller fiefs." I took a deep breath to calm myself, feeling my chest and neck flare with the heat of my anger. "I know this is a prison for you, but you don't know, and you will never understand the hell I'm raising my family in-"   
"It must be a nice one," Sandra said, moving to sit on a dull, four-posted bed in the corner of the room. "Is that your son I hear running past my room every day? I wonder how he'll turn out to be. If he's more daddy's boy than mama's."   
I turned away, feeling the sting in her words. "It's better than this," I admitted sharply. "But only a little. I wasn't allowed to travel with my daughter. He holds my children against me like hostages. I have no say in their future. When he is old enough, Caleb will start training to be the next King. Amya will be found a suitor. Any more children I have will have more responsibilities I would have dreamed of forcing upon any of my future children." I raised my hand to stop her as a servant entered the room, leaving an essential meal of roasted meat, some vegetables, and bread on the table between us. "Please bring us some wine, Henry," I said, and the young man bowed before leaving the room and closing it.   
"What is this?" Sandra asked, and I beckoned her to a chair closer to the table. While she moved closer, I began to speak, to explain the reasoning for this visit.   
"I've noticed in my short time thus far as Queen that there are too many yes-men and sycophants ready to jump at the first command. Morgarath controlled most of them, and some of them had wives who far too eagerly for my liking began to vie for the position of lady-in-waiting."   
I had looked down at the food as I spoke, and when I looked up, I smiled at Sandra and made a gesture for her to eat. This had to look like a regular get together, not a political conversation I knew. Seeing her take my hint and slowly begin to eat, I glanced at the door as Henry reentered with a pitcher of wine and two glasses. I nodded my thanks, and he left, bowing once more.   
As I filled our glasses, hers first, I restarted my story. "I soon realized that the women around me were looking for a crown. Their motivation for helping me wasn't to be my friend but to gain political favor, earn their husbands fiefs, land that sort of thing. There was no one I knew that I could trust. Trust. My mother and sister had to return to their households, and my mother is too close to death even to consider. But then my sister mentioned you. I knew of you; I had hoped to meet you one day if the situations had been better." I took a sip of wine, then continued, allowing her to eat. "I thought I could trust someone with an outsider's perspective. You fit that bill."   
"So, basically," Sandra said, slowly, "you want me to be your lady-in-waiting because I'm an outsider, and you need someone you can trust."   
I swallowed and nodded, suddenly feeling timid. "You would get your title as Lady Sandra back, I would move to erase Arald's scar of traitor off of him, and I would move to reinstate your lands. This land isn't Tiller's as much as he might think it is. It was a privilege, and that can be easily taken away." I shuddered as I realized how easily I had said those words, but pressed on. "You can bring people you trust from here; you can pick people from my staff-staff that I trust with my life-to serve you as well. I'm not here to bride you, but considering that fact that it was my husband who put you into house arrest-" I paused, a sudden question on my mind. "Why didn't you leave? You could have been free, next to your husband. Why did you choose this instead?"   
She shrugged, nonchalantly, though I saw a sadness enter her eyes. I allowed us to move past that point in the conversation, taking a few minutes to eat a piece of slightly stale bread as she thought over the deal. After at least two minutes that passed by as slow as hardened honey, she reached out to shake my hand.   
"When do I start?" she asked, and for the first time in months, I felt a relived smile cross my lips. I now had my lady-in-waiting. It was time for more of my planes to begin.


End file.
